


the last house shall never fall (until you burn it down)

by steelplatedhearts



Series: War Paint and Cyanide Pills [3]
Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Blood, F/M, Implied Torture, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelplatedhearts/pseuds/steelplatedhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the zombies come, Shosanna and Silva have the time of their life. It's deliriously exciting, until it isn't.<br/>(AU of the War Paint and Cyanide Pills verse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the last house shall never fall (until you burn it down)

**Author's Note:**

> I am now making AU's for my AU's. Clearly there is no hope for me.

When they find the first zombie, Shosanna chains it up and stows it in the backseat. “I always wanted a pet zombie,” she says excitedly to Silva, who’s taken over driving.

He smiles at her indulgently. “What’s your plan—train it? I don’t think you can train zombies, _ratita_.”

“Of course you can,” she scoffs. “They’re just animals, and you train them like any other animal.” The zombie is struggling against its chains, trying its damnedest to get at the two fresh warm bodies in the front, and she reconsiders. “Well, slightly more dangerous than other animals. But that’s what makes it fun.”

*   *   *   *   *

Shosanna insists on having a stable environment to train her pet in, so they find a large, out-of-the-way house somewhere, kill the family inside, and move in. She rigs some electric dog collars to magnify the shocks, clips them on to what Silva’s started affectionately referring to as “Bitey,” and then lets it off the chain.

It staggers around for a moment, then heads straight towards Silva. He stands there, calmly watching it approach. It’s only a few inches away when Shosanna presses the button and it falls to the ground, electricity arcing through its body. It recovers after a minute, and then goes for Shosanna.

She presses the button again, laughing in delight as it writhes on the grass.

*   *   *   *   *

In two weeks, there are six more zombies chained up in the yard, bringing the total to seven, and Silva can’t resist. In addition to Bitey, they now have Groaney, Oozey, Infecty, Rotty, Bloody, and Gory.  

“I guess this makes you Snow White,” he says as Shosanna’s slice-and-dicing five victims for feeding time.

“If anything, I’m the huntsman, and you’re obviously the evil queen,” she says. “Q can be Snow White. He’s pale enough, anyway.” She gathers up the bloody chunks of what once used to be a happy family. “Dinnertime, _mes chéris_!” It did not take long to train them out of wanting to eat Shosanna or Silva, so they flock to her side happily (if a zombie can be happy. Silva had spent a good week trying to gauge whether or not the zombies had any emotions, which involved a lot of talking at them and recitations of poetry. Shosanna had ended the experiment when Oozey started gnawing on Silva’s shoe).

“You call them nicer names than me,” Silva says, watching the feeding frenzy. “Do you still hate me that much, or is this your long-buried maternal instinct coming out to play?”

“Maternal instinct?” she asks incredulously. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You treat them like children,” he points out. “It was a natural assumption.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Raoul,” she says. “I have all the maternal instinct of a wolf spider.”

“You’d eat your young?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Metaphorically, at least.”

“Hmm. Might even be literally.”

She rolls her eyes and throws a chunk of meat at him, blood spattering his jacket. He grabs it out of the air, feeding it to Gory like feeding a pigeon in the park.

*   *   *   *   *

They go on the road after that. There isn’t any room for their pack in the car, so Silva rigs up a harness system and lets the zombies pull the car like a chariot.

“We don’t even need to stop for gas anymore, _ratita!”_ he says proudly. “And considering this is a zombie apocalypse, gas is going to be scarce.”

“Will they be able to pull it?” Shosanna asks, eyeing the getup skeptically. “The car’s pretty heavy.”

“They seem stronger in death than they were in life,” Silva says. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

It is not, and the ride is exhilarating.

*   *   *   *   *

“We don’t have to stay in the shadows anymore, you know,” Silva says. “It’s a brave new world. Everyone can be in the sunlight.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me to let you do whatever you want?” Shosanna asks. “Because it’s working.”

“I thought we could head up to MI6,” Silva says. “See what Bond’s up to.”

“Of _course_ you did,” Shosanna growls. “Always, it’s about Bond.”

“I thought he would make a lovely addition to your pack,” Silva continues. “Put him at the front, let him lead the charge.”

“You’d sacrifice your precious agent for me?” Shosanna says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m touched.”

*   *   *   *   *

MI6 is not doing as well as they could be doing.

Mallory is dead, most of the 00’s are dead, and they spot Eve lurching around near Buckingham, eyes blank and clothes bloody.

They finally find Bond in his apartment, doors barricaded. They make bets on which of their pack will get to him first and which will go down. It turns out to be Bitey that makes it through, and they lose Infecty and Groaney.

“It’s a good tradeoff, yes?” Silva says as they watch the virus slowly take hold of 007. “We lost a few of your children, but we gained him. It’s almost like not losing anyone at all.”

Shosanna is silent for a moment. “As long as we have him, we should have Q as well, if only to have someone to hurt. And we can pick up Moneypenny too.”

“Have you seen Q anywhere?” Silva asks.

“No,” Shosanna says. “But I know where he is.”

*   *   *   *   *

“I can’t believe he has a panic room,” Silva says.

Shosanna snorts, stabbing at the door with a crowbar. “Seriously? If anyone in this city were to have a panic room, it would be Q.”

She breaks through the lock and drags Q out. “Don’t talk,” she says, cutting off whatever he’d intended to say. “You’re not here to talk.”

“Maybe scream, though,” Silva says helpfully.

“Well, yes,” Shosanna says. “I should have thought that was obvious.”

*   *   *   *   *

They can do anything now.

They go people hunting for a while, gunning down survivors and launching assaults on compounds where people have organized themselves.

“They’re hiding like animals,” Shosanna reasons. “That makes them prey, I think.”

“I wholeheartedly concur,” Silva says, and they charge forward, Bond leading the way.

*   *   *   *   *

After a month or two (or maybe more—time has started to blend together) they’re forced to conclude there are no humans left besides the two of them and Q, who can barely be counted as human at this point. He doesn’t speak anymore, instead just staring into space as the car hurtles down the road.

So they go on a worldwide campaign of destruction.

It’s glorious. Silva blows the Great Wall of China to kingdom come. Shosanna takes a great delight in toppling the Eiffel Tower, grabbing onto one of the legs as it falls and riding it up into the air, planting her feet and howling with victory once the dust settles.

They ride to a town, sleep overnight, and burn it to the ground when they leave. It seems, sometimes, like the entire world is on fire, and it’s the most beautiful feeling either of them can remember.

This is how they pass their days. They destroy monuments and important buildings and ancient ruins, they burn down cities, and they slowly destroy Q. When they encounter the undead, they let Bond and Eve off of their leashes and watch the fun.

It is, quite frankly, a paradise.

*   *   *   *   *

But no paradise is eternal, and this brave new world is no exception.

Silva had known it would come, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He’s almost not surprised when Shosanna turns to him and says, “There’s nothing left to destroy, Raoul.”

And indeed, there isn’t. The entire earth is burning, and they’re the last two humans, alone without a purpose.

They’ve burned it all.

Well. Not quite all.

Silva sighs. “There’s still the old MI6 building,” and Shosanna sits up. He has so far been vehemently opposed to touching the building, instead leaving it as a monument to Her. Even mentioning it as a target for destruction—well.

She knows what that means.

*   *   *   *   *

They drive up to London and head to MI6, Shosanna clutching her bat like it’s her last grip on life.

They put a bullet through Q’s head when they get out of the car, stepping over his body as they walk away.

(He hadn’t been any fun for a while, anyway—they’d broken him. His eyes were dull behind his glasses, and he never screamed anymore.)

They let Monyepenny and Bond loose about two blocks from the building, and Silva swears that Bond smirks at them as he stumbles away.

It’s like he knows what’s coming next.

“Think of it this way,” Shosanna says, hand on Silva’s shoulder as he watches Bond’s retreat. “You were the last rat.”

It’s a genuine attempt at comfort, oddly enough. Silva wants to say something to make her scowl and hit him and call him nasty names, but can’t quite come up with what to say. Instead, he grabs her hand and leads her into the building.

They split up, dousing everything in gas, and then meet in what was once Her office. She hands him the box of matches, and he lights one up, throwing it onto the floor and watching it blossom into an inferno.

They watch as the building burns around them. It’s the last bit of destruction on the planet, and they’re going to take in as much as they can.

It gets warmer and warmer until it’s almost unbearable. Silva turns on a whim and draws Shosanna up into a rough kiss.

She lets him, winding her arms around his neck, and they stay like that until they are nothing but ashes.

*   *   *   *   *

There was never a place for rats in the sunlight.


End file.
